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Ghamqersburg. Pa.: 

Franklin Repository Printer. 

1903. 









Entered according to Act of Congress in the 
year 1903 by 

MARY JANE AGNEW, 

in the office of the Librarian of Congress at 
Washington. 






* • • 

• • • 



■» • 
* • 



TO MY FRIENDS. 



These selections taken "From My Scrap Book"— 
whose beauty and spirituality have been a benediction 
to me — I send forth on a mission of good-will and love. 
May they not only cheer and comfort, but be the means 
of gloiifying our Heavenly Father. 

M. J. AGNEW. 
Grekncastle, Pa., 

Sept., 1903. 



fraise. 



Fades from the west the farewell light 

Flung backward by the setting sun, 

And silence deepens, as the night 

Steals w^ith silent shadows on. 

Gathers the soft refreshing dew 

On springing grass and floweret stems, 

And lo! the everlasting blue 

Is radiant with a thousand gems. 

Not only doth the voiceful day 
Thy loving kindness, Lord, proclaim, 
But night with its sublime array 
Of worlds, doth magnify Thy name. 
Yea: while adoring seraphim 
Before Thee bend the willing knee 
From every star a choral hymn 
Goes up unceasingly to Thee. 

Day unto day doth utter speech; 
Night to night Thy. voice makes known 
Through all the earth where thought may reach 
Is heard the glad and solemn tone. 
And worlds beyond the farthest star 
Whose light has reached the human eye, 
Catch the high anthem from afar, 
That rolls along immensity. 

O, Holy Father, 'mid the calm 

And stillness of the evening hour 

We too: would lift our solemn psalm 

To praise Thy goodness and Thy power. 

For over us, as over all 

Thy tender mercies still extend, 

Nor vainly shall the contrite call. 

On Thee our Father and our Friend. 



Kept by Thy goodness through the day 
Thanksgiving to I'hy name we pour. 
Night o'er us, with its stars: we pray 
Thy love to guard us evermore. 
In griet console, in gladness bless, 
In darkness guide, in sickness cheer, 
Till in the Saviour's righteousness, 
Before Thy throne our souls appear. 



—J. R. A. (?) 



HE LEADETH ME. 

"In pastures green? Not always, sometimes He 

Who knoweth best, in kindness leadeth me 
in weary ways, where heavy shadows be, 

Out of the sunshine warm and soft and bright. 

Out of the sunshine into darkest night; 
I oft would faint with terror and with fright; 

Only for this — I know He holds my hand. 

So, whether in the green or desert land, 
I trust, although I may not understand. 

And by still waters- No; not always so; 

Oft times the heavy tempests round me blow, 
And o'er my soul the waves and billows go. 

But when the storm beats loudest, and I cry 

Aloud for help, the Master standeth by, 
And whispers to my soul. *Lo, it is I.' 

Above the tempest wild I hear Him say, 

'Beyond this darkness lies the perfect day; 
In every path of thine I lead the way. 

So, '.vh ether on the hill tops high and fair 
I dwell, or in the sunless valleys where 
The shadows lie — what matter? He is there. 

And more than this: where'er the path may lead, 

He gives to me no helpless, broken reed, 
But His own hand, sufllcient for my need. 

So, where He leads me I can safely go; 

And in the blest hereafter I shall know 
Why, in His wisdom, He hath led me so.'* 

6 



AMEN. 

I cannot say, 
Beneath the pressure of life's cares to-day, 

I joy in these, 

But I can say 
That I would rather walk this rugged way, 

If Him I please. 

1 cannot feel 
That all is well when darkening clouds conceal 

The shining sun. 

But then I know 
God lives and loves. And say since it is so, 

"Thy will be done." 

I cannot speak 
In happy tones; the tear drops on my cheek 

Show I am sad; 

But I can speak 
Of grace to suffer with submission meek 

Until made glad. 

I do not see 
Why God should e'en permit such things to be 

When He is love. 

But I can see. 
Though often dimly, through the mystery. 

His hand above. 



I do not know 
Where falls the seed that I have tried to sow 

With greatest care. 

But I shall know 
The meaning of eash waiting hour below 

Sometime, somewhere. 

I do not look 
Upon the present, nor in Nature's book 

To read my fate; 

But I do look 
For promised blessings in God's Holy Book, 

And 1 can wait. 



I may not try 
To keep the hot tears back, but hush that sigh 

"It might have been," 

And try to still 
Each rising murmur, and to God's sweet will 

Respond, "Amen." 

—Anon, 



THE LOOM OF LIFE. 

"All day, all night, I can hear the jar 
Of the loom of life, and near and far 
It thrills, with its deep and muffled sound, 
As the tireless wheels go round and round. 

Busily, ceaselessly, goes the loom 
In the light of day and the midnight's gloom; 
The wheels are turning early and late. 
And the woof is wound in the warp of fate. 

Click, clack! there's a thread of love wove in; 
Click, clack! another, of wrong and sin; 
"What a checkered thing will this life he 
V7hen we see it unrolled in eternity! 

Time, with a face like Mystery, 

And hanas as busy as hands can be, 

Sits at the loom with arms outspread, 

To catch in its meshes each glancing thread. 

When shall this wonderful web be done? 
In a thousand years, perhaps; or one; 
Or tomorrow! V\^ho knoweth? Not you nor I, 
But the wheels turn on and the shuttles fly. 

Are we spinners of wool for this life-web say? 
Do we furnish the weaver a thread each day? 
It were better then, O my friend, to spin 
A beautiful thread than a thread of sin. 

Ah! sad eyed weaver, the years are slow, 

But each day is nearer the end, I know; 

And some day the last thread shall be woven in; 

God grant it to be love instead of sin." 

8 



WEAVING THE WEB. 

"This morn I will weave my web," she said. 

As she stood by her loom in the rosy light, 
And her young eyes, hopefully glad and clear, 

Followed afar the swallow's flight. 
'*As soon as the day's first tasks are done, 

While yet I am fresh and strong," said she, 
*1 will hasten to weave the beautiful v/eb 

Whose pattern is knov/n to none but me. 

"I wull weave it fine, I v/ill weave it fair. 

And ah how the colors will glow." she said; 
So fadeless and strong will I weave my web 

That perhaps it will live after I am dead." 
But the morning hours sped on apace, 

The air grew sweet wath the breath of June; 
And young Love hid by the waiting loom, 

Tangling the threads as he hummed a tune. 

**Ah life is so rich and full" she cried, 

**And morn is short, though the days are long. 
This noon I wiil weave my beautiful web, 

I will weave it carefully, fine and strong." 
But the sun rode high in the cloudless sky; 

The burden and heat of the day she bore; 
And hither and thither she came and went. 

While the loom stood still as it stood before. 

"Ah life is too busy at noon" she said; 

My web must wait till the eventide. 
Till the common work of the day is done. 

And my heart grows calm in the silence wide." 
So one by one, the hours passed on, 

Till the creeping shadow^s had longer grown; 
Till the house v/as still, and the breezes slept. 

And the singing birds to their nests had flown. 

"And now I will weave my w^eb," she said, 

As she turned to her loom at set of sun. 
And laid her hands on the shining threads 

To set them in order, one by one. 
But hand was tired, and heart was w^eak; 

"I am not as strong as I was," sighed she. 
And the pattern is blurred, and the colors rare 

Are not so bright, or so fair to see." 

9 



*'I must wait, I think, till another morn; 

I must go to my rest with my work undone. 
It is growing too dark to weave," she cried, 

As lower and lower sank the sun. 
She dropped the shuttle; the loom stood still; 

The weaver slept in the twilight grey. 
Dear heart, win she weave ner beauuiul web 

In the golden light of longer day?" 



^a.^ 



OUR YEARS. 

Our years are like the shadows 

O'er sunny hills that fly. 
Or grasses in the meadows. 

That blossom but to die. 
A sleep, a dream, a story 

By strangers quickly told, 
An unremaining glory 

Of things that soon are old. 

O, Thou, who canst not slumber. 

Whose light grows never pale. 
Teach us right to number 

Our years before they fail? 
On us Thy mercy lighten. 

On us Thy goodness rest. 
And let Thy spirit brighten 

The hearts Thy self hath Blessed. 

— Bickersteth. 






"This is life, — to pour out love unstinted, 
Good and evil, sunlike, blesseth He; 

Through your finite, is his infinite hinted 
Children of your Father must ye be." 

10 



ANOTHER DAY. 

Another day of life 

Is opened unto me; 
O blessed Spirit! white thereon 

Vv^'hat seemeth best to. Thee 

Write lovely acts of love; 

Write holy thought of praise; 
Yea write a copj% Spirit dear, 

Of one of Jesus* days. 

And every mark of mine — 

Oh! wash it, wash it white; 
Let nothing on the page appear, 

But words which Thou dost write. 

And then lest some should miss 

Whence all the goodness came; 
When Thou hast written all the rest, 

Write underneath Thy name. 

— Monod. (?) 



JUST FOR TO-DAY. 

**Lord for to-morrow and its needs 

I do not pray; 
Keep me, my God, from stains of sin 

Just for to-day. 

Let me both diligently work 

And duly pray. 
Let me be kind in word and deed, 

Just for to-day. 

Let me be slow to do my will, 

Prompt to obey; 
Help me to mortify my flesh. 

Just for to-day. 

Let me no wrong or idle word. 

Unthinkingly say, 
Set Thou a seal upon my lips, 

Just for to-day. 

11 



Let me in reason Lord be grave 

In reason gay; 
Let me be faithful to Thy grace, 

Just for to-day. 

So, for tomorrow and its needs, 

I do not pray, 
But keep me, guide me, love me Loru, 

Just for to-day." 




IF WE HAD BUT A DAY. 

We should fill the hours with the sweetest things 

If we had but a day; 
We should drink alone at the purest springs 

In our upward way; 
V/c should love with a life-time's love in an hour. 

If the hours are few, 
We should rest, not for dreams, but for fresher power 

To be and to do. 

Wo should guard our wayward or wearied wills 

By the clearest light; 
We should keep our eyes on the heavenly hills 

If they lay in sight; 
We should trample the pride and the discontent 

Beneath our feet; 
We should take whatever a good God sent 

With a trust complete. 

We should waste no moment in weak regret 

If the day were but one. 
If what we remember and what we forget 

Went out with the sun. 
We should be from our clamorous selves set free 

To work or to pray, 
Anc to be what the Father would have us to be, 

If we had but a day." 

12 



HOUR BY HOUR. 

One single day 
Is not so much to look upon; 
There is some way 
Of passing hours of such a limit. 
We can face a single day; out place 
Too many days for smothered sighs, 
^^nd we lose heart, just at the start. 
Years really are not long — nor lives — 
The longest which survive — 
And yet to look across 
A future we miv'st tread, bowed 
By a sense of loss, 
Bearing some burden, weighing 
Dov/n so low 
That we can scarcely go 
One step ahead — this is so hard, 
So stern a view to face, unstarred, 
Untouched by light, so masked with dread, 
If v/e would take a step ahead. 
Be brave and Keep the feet quite steady; 
Feel the breath of life 
Sweep ever on our face again. 
We must not look across, looking in vain. 
But downward to the next close step. 
And up. Eyes that have wept 
Must look a little way, not far. 
God broke the years to hours 
And days. 

That hour by hour 

And day by day, 
Just going on a little v/ay, 
We might be able all along 
To keep quite strong. 

— George Klingle. 




**When ye sitte by my fyre to keep yesal warme, 
Tak heed that ye tongue doth ye naybor na harme." 
(Motto over fire-place, in manse of Summerville 
Presbyterian church, South Carolina.) 

13 



'*T0 KEEP A TRUE LENT." 

"Is this a fast, to keep, j 

The larder leane, 

And cleane 
From fat of veaies and sheep? 

Is it to quit the dish 

Of flesh, yet still 

To fill 
The platter high with fish? 

Is it to fast an houre, 

Or ragged go, 

To show 
A downcast look and soure? 

No; 'tis a fast to dole 

Thy sheaf of wheat. 

And meat, 
Unto the hungry soul. 

It is to fast from strife, . 

From old debate 

And hate; 
To circumcise thy life. 

To show a heart grief rent. 

To starve thy sin, 

Not bin; 
And that s to keep thy Lent." 

— Herrick's Noble Numbers. 




"By thine own soul's law learn to live; 

And if man thwart thee, take no heed, 
And if men hate thee, have no care — 

Sing thou thy song, and do thy deed ; 
Hope thou thy hope, and pray thy prayer, 

And claim no crown they will not give." 

14 



EASTER THANKS. 

''Thank God for the dear ones safe to-day, 

Safe ai home on the happy shore, 
Where the smile of the Father beams for aye, 

And the shadow of pain shall fall no more. 
Thank God, for the hearts that have done with sin, 

For the eyes that shall never be blind with tears; 
Thank God, for the beautiful, entered in 

To the perfect rest of the deathl«ess years. 

Thank God tc-day, for the pilgrim feet 

Which have trodden the last of the toilsome way; 
For the strong, for the frail, for the babes so sweet. 

Who have left forever this crumbling clay; 
Who have changed earth's trial and loss and moan 

For the ^'ictor's palm and the voice of praise. 
Who dwell in the light of the great white throne, 

And join in the song which the ransomed raise. 

Thank God to-day, for the hope sublime 

Which ^')\9. our hearts in the darkest hours; 
Thank God that the transient cares of time 

Are v/reathed in the glory of fadeless flowers. 
Thank God, for the rift in the desolate grave; 

'Tis the soldier'.^ couch, not the captive's prison 
He hallowed its portals w*ho died to save. 

And v/e write o'er its arch, "The Lord is risen." 

— Grace Church Visitor. 
Chicago, 1896. 



EVERY-DAY THANKS. 

Haste not, dear heart, too fast and far 

To reaping days, 
To find what gifts and treasures are 

Meet for thy praise, 
Nor wait, as thou hast done, to sing 
Thy sweetest thanks at harvesting. 

Just at thy gate a garden blooms 

With life and song. 
And in the fields a thousand looms 

Hum all day long. 
Lo! all these golden summer days 
No toiling vale its thanks delays. 

15 



Be glad to-day, dear heart, tor ail 

Each season gives. 
Let come what may to speed the fall, — 

The present lives. 
No creature hath one reason why 
A thankless day should hurry by. 

— Frank Walcott Hutt. 




CHRISTMAS. 

In the mystic region where Fancy's light, 
Gleanjs over the waves of Thought's deep sea, 

I am building an airy bridge to-night, 

A bridge, oh friend, that shall reach to thee. 

Its pillars, are Love's own fabric, spanned 

With arches, which Hope lifts toward the sky; 

And Memory's skillful and tender hand 

Fas carved them with records, of days gone by. 

Warm wishes for thy best welfare spring 

From every niche, in my shadow bridge. 
Like the fairy mosses, that often cling 

To grey rocks, clothing some barren ridge. 

Come forth on my bridge, oh friend, to-night. 

Thv thought, like mine, can o'ermaster space, 
Our faces are hid from each other's sight, 

But our hearts can meet in a close em.brace. — E. M. M 



A CHRISTMAS WISH. 

"What ^hall I v/ish thy Christmas day to be? 

A merry day when parted friends shall meet? 
A happy day when friendly hearts shall greet, 

And wish the seasons com_pliments to thee? 
Nay' nay accept a fonder wish from me: 

Calm be the day with hallowed happiness 

16 



A day tbat comes to comfort thee and bless, 
The sweetest bar in Time's sweet melody, 

A day of peace among life's workadays, 
A Hallowed day that comes like Sabbath's calm. 

A day when Memory roams thro' blissful ways 
And floats around thee with their Rose's balm, 

A night when Care from every home is far 

And all Is bright as thy Redeemer's Star." — S. K. C, 



CHRISTMAS TIDE. 

"We give thee welcome! for thou bringest visions 
Of all we love, both here and far away; 

1 ne Present, all aglow with life and gladness, 
Is not the whole of thy sweet gifts today. 

The Past yet lives in tender recollections 
Of ail that has been ever loved and dear; 

While Hope still pictures visions of a Future, 
And links the Present with the coming j^ear." 



CHRISTMAS LETTER. 
My Dear, 

As the glad Christmastide comes near, with its bright- 
ness, kind wishes aid hallowed memories, I feel that I must 
send loving greeting, as I can do nothing more. Yet after 
all, is it not the kindly thought that prompts it, rather than 
the gift, which is most grateful to us as we grow older. 
Hov/ v/e cling to friends of earlier days, and long for their 
dear companionship; and how our hearts bound at the 
thought of once more being united v/ith the precious ones 
"gone before;" v/hen the Christmas song of **Peace on 
earth, good will to men" shall be changed to the glad Alle- 
lulia of heaven, ^'Blessing, and honor, and glory, and power 
to the Lamb that was slain." 

"We cannot bring again the days 

0£ our unshadowed glee 
But Christm^as, happy Christmas 

Sweet herald of good will. 
With holy songs of glory 

Brings holy gladness still. 

17 



For peace and hope may brighten 

And patient love may glow, 
As we listen in the starlight 

To the bells across the snow." 

As the New Year dawns, may your experience be: 

"Another year of mercies 

Of faithfulness and grace; 
Another year of gladness 

In the shining of His face." 

"Another year of service 

Of witness for His love; 
Another year of training 

For holier work above," 

And may we both be enabled to say: 

"Dear Master, let it be 
On earth, or else in heaven. 
Another year for Thee." 

Yours with tender affection. 



"A Happy Christmas to you! 

May it bring you all fair things, 
With the sweetest, best remembrance 

Which about its coming clings. 

When its quiet, solemn glory 

On your heart and home shall shine, 
Think a loving thought of me, dear. 

For the sake of 'auld lang syne,." 



"Down the ages hoary. 

Peals the song of glory. 

Peace and God's good-will. 

Other echoes die away, 

But the song of Christmas day. 

Echoes from Judean hill, 

Even clearer, louder still. 

Oh, may its holy, heavenly chime 

Make all thy life a Christmas time.' 

18 



A NEW YEAR GREETING. 

*A bright New Year and a sunny track 

Along an upward way. 
And a song of praise on looking back, 

When the year has passed away. 
And golden sheaves, nor small, nor few! 
This is my New Year's wish for you!'* 



'ANNO DOMINI." 



"Tbo 3 ear of our Lord — "Was it such to thee 
The year that is breathing its final breath. 

And is passing, as all past years have gone 
in ^ilonce. away, through the gates of Death? 

Its days — were they faithfully given to Him, 
Whether beaming with joy, or if touched with pain? 

Was the morn's first breath the uplifted prayer? 
And tiiankful reliance each night's refrain? 

In its onward path, if the skies were bright. 
Was the **piiiar of cloud" thy guide indeed? 

Or if jriiadows were darkening over the night 
Did the ''pillar of fire" thy way still lead? 

Remembei each year, as it rolls away. 
Bears record of motive, and thought, and deeds. 

To be enrered up in the fimal book. 
Which none but tht eyes of Omniscience reads. 

Seek, then, for the year ttiat is opening now 
The help from on high which is freely given 

That each day in its onward path may be 
A step for duty — a step toward heaven! 




PEACE. ^ ^ 

"My peace I give unto you!" 

The peace of Christ. 

My soul keeps tryst, 
With this dear promise of its Lord, 

And on this night 

Doth feel the might 
Of the sweet comfort of His Word, 

O precious gift! 

O heavenly rift, 
Pierce every cloud of doubt and sin. 

And o'er my soul 

Fresh rapture roll. 
Come, let celestial radiance in. 

O sweet foretaste! 

My soul, make haste. 
For if on earth such bliss be given, 

What must it be, 

O Christ, with Thee, 
To dwell forevermore in heaven. 

— -H. M. G. 



THE FOOT-PATH OF PEACE. 

To be glal of life, because it gives you the chance to 
love and to work and to play and to look up at the stars; to 
be satisfied with your possessions, but not contented with 
yourself until you have made the best of them; to despise 
nothing in the world except falsehood and meanness, and 
to fear nothing except cowardice; to be governed by your 
admirations rather than by your disgusts; to covet nothing 
that is your neighbor's except his kindness of heart and 
gentleness of manners; to think seldom of your enemies 
often of your friends, and every day of Christ; and to 
spend as much time as you can with body and with spirit, 
in God's out-of-doors — these are little guide-posts on the 
footpath to peace. 

Henry Van Dyke. 

20 



THE WIND. 

"Whichever way the wind doth blow, 
Some heart is glad to have it so; 
Then blow it east or blow it west, 
The wind that blov/s, that wind is best. 

My little craft sails not alone, 

A thousand fleets from every zone 

Are out upon a thousand seas; 

And what for me were favoring breeze 

Might dash another, with the shock 

Of doom, upon some hidden rock. 

And so I do not dare to pray 

For Tv^inds to v.sJt me on my way. 

But leave it to the Higher Will 

To stay or speed me, trusting still 

That all is well, and sure that He 

Who launched my bark will sail with me 

Through storm and calm, and will not fail, 

To land me, every peril past. 

Within his sheltering heaven at last. 

Then whatsoever v/ind doth blow. 
My heart is glad to have it so; 
And, blov/ it east or blow it west. 
The wind that blows, that wind is best." 



SOMEWHERE. 



^'Somewhere the wind is blowing, 

I thought as I toiled along 
In the burning heat of the noontide. 

And the fancy made me strong; 
.Yes, soraewhere the v/ind is blowing. 

Though here where I gasp and sigh, 
Not a breath of air is stirring. 

Not a cloud in the burning sky. 

Somewhere the things we long for 
Exist on earth's wide bound, 

Somewhere the sun is shining 
When winter nips the ground. 



21 



Komewhere the flowers are springing. 
Somewhere the corn is brown, 

And ready unto the harvest 
To teed the hungry town. 

Somewhere the twilight gathers, 

And weary men lay by 
The burden of the daytime, 

And wrapped in slumber lie. 
And g]oom and darkness flee; 

Some^yhere the day is breaking 
Though storms our bark are tossing. 

There's somewhere a placid sea. 

And thus, I thought, 'tis always, 

In this mysterious life. 
There's always gladness somewhere 

In spite of its pains and strife; 
And somewhere the sin and sorrow 

Of earth are known no more. 
Somewhere our weary spirits 

Shall fimd a peaceful shore. 

Somewhere the things that try us 

Shall all have passed away, 
And doubt and fear no longer 

Impede the perfect day. 
O brother, though the darkness 

Around thy soul be cast. 
The earth is rolling sunward 

And light shall come at last." 



"Thy way not mine O Lord, 

However dark it be! 
Lead me by Thy own hand; 

Choose out the path for me. 
I dare not choose my lot; 

I would not if I might; 
Choose Thou for me, my God, 

So shall I walk aright." 

— Bonar 

22 



SHE AND I. 

"And I said she is dead. I could not brook 

Again on that marvelous face to look, 

But they took my hand and they led me in 

And they left me alone with my nearest kin. 

Once again alone in that silent place, 

My beautiful dead and I, face to face; 

And I could not speak and I could not stir 

But I stood and with love I looked on her. 

With love and v/ith rapture and strange surprise 

I looked on the lips and the close shut eyes. 

On the lerfect rest and the calm content, 

And the happiness in her features blent. 

And the thin white hands that had wrought so much. 

Now nerveless to kisses or fevered touch; 

My beautiful dead — who had known the strife. 

The pain and the sorrow that we call life, 

V/ho had never faltered beneath her cross. 

Nor murmured when loss followed swift on loss; 

And the smile that sweetened her lips alway 

Lay light on her heavened-closed mouth that day. 

I smoothed from her hair a silver thread, 

And I wept, but I could not think her dead; 

I felt with a wonder too deep for speech. 

She could tell what only the angels teach. 

And over her m^outh I leaned my ear. 

Lest there might be something I should not hear. 

Then out from the silence between us stole 

A message, that reached my inmost soul: — 

*Why weep you today, who wept before, 

That the road was rough I must journey o'er? 

Why mourn that my lips can answer you not 

When anguish and sorrow are both forgot? 

Behold, all my life I have longed for rest; 

Yes, e'en when I held you on my breast. 

And now that I lie in a breathless sleep. 

Instead of rejoicing, you sigh and weep. 

My dearest, I knov/ you would not break 

If you could, my slumber and have me awake; 

For though life was full of the things that bless, 

I have never till now known happiness.' 

Then I dried my tears, and with lifted head, 

I left my mother, my beautiful dead." 



23 



THE FUTURE. 

'I know not what the future is, 
I know the one supremest truth, 
God bides for aye, in age as youth. 

So coming days reveal Him more. 
Thrice welcome be to me their dawn, 
Such gift outvies the lost and gone. 

Enough to know that God is there. 
The centre of the coming years. 
And this has silenced all my fears." 

Baldwin-Kansas. 




WE WONDER WHY. 

Sometimes in life we wonder w^hy 
The hearts must ache, the lip must sigh; 
Why disappointments cross the way 
To thwart the hopes we hold to-day. 
Ah, soul, the Father has his plan 
Beneath these ways we cannot scan, 
And ever shall His purpose be 
Worked out for good to thee and me. 
If we will wait. 

To know that through the strain and stress 
Of human hearts, when burdens press; 
To know that when our life holds care, 
The Son of God, the Christ, is there, — 
Will give us faith for paths of night. 
Will change the darkness into light. 
Along the way. 

Rev. I. Mench Chambers. 




RESIGNATION. 

"I take this trial, Jesus, 

As Thy dear will. 
Thy arm of love sustains me, 

So I lie still. 

I know thou wilt not send me 

One pain or grief 
Without Thy loving Spirit 

To give relief. 

So ril not ask the wherefore 

Of seeming woe. 
But rest in this assurance. 

My Lord doth know. 

And in the blest hereafter, 

Once tear-dimmed eyes, 
With glad, adoring wonder. 

And stilled surprise. 

Will see with sight grown clearer 

In that glad day. 
How that dear hand has led me 

Through all the way. 

And so ril press right onward. 

Though toil and woe 
May be my larger portion 
. V^hile here below. 

For when the pain is sharpest, 

I surely know 
It is the arm of mercy 

That strikes the blow." 



"Since thy Father's arm sustains thee, 

Peaceful be; 
When a chastening hand restrains thee, 

It is He! 
Know His love in full completeness 
Fills the measure of thy weakness; 
If He wound thy spirit sore, 

Trust Him more." 

Tr. fr. H. K. Hagenbach. 

25 



LONGING. 

"Ere many autumns glow and die, 
Our dust shall crumble in our tombs; 
Ere many times the clover blooms, 

That dust shall breathe beyond the sky! 

Tho' all our years were tears and pain. 
And life were endless as the stars; 
Should we not bless its wounds and scars. 

That reap at last eternal gain? 

This life preludes our greater life, 
As tempests do the long still calm; 
From the deep grave we chant the psalm 

Forever, void of pain or strife. 

When man has outlived all his race, 

And has more friends in heaven than here. 
How dull the day! how long the year! 

Till he may meet them face to face!'' 



TO MYSELF. 



Let nothing make thee sad or fretful 
Or too regretful: 

Be still. 
What God hath ordered must be right; 
Then find in it thine own delight, 

My will. 

Why shouldst thou fill to-day with sorrow 
About to-morrow, 

My heart? 
One watches all with care most true; 
Doubt not that He will give thee, too. 

Thy part. 

Only be steadfast, never waver. 
Nor seek earth's favor, 

But rest; 
Thou knowest what God wills must be 
For all His creatures, so for thee, 

The best. 

— Quiet Hours. 

26 



SHUTTING THE DOOR. 

Lord, I have shut my door — 
Phut out life's busy cares and fretting noise. 
Here in this silence they intrude no more; 

Speak Thou, and heavenly joys 
Shall fill my heart with music sweet and calm, 

A holy psalm. 

Yes, I have shut my door 
On earthly passions, all its yearning love, 
Its tender friendships, all the priceless store 

Of hnrnan ties. Above 
All these my heart aspires. O Heart Divine, 

Stoop Thou to mine! 

Lord, I have shut my door! 
Come Thou and visit me. I am alone! 
Com.o. as when doors were shut Thou cam'st of yore. 

Ami visit edst Thine own! 
My Lord ! I kneel with reverent love and fear, 

For Thou art here! 

— M. E. Atkinson. 



DR. ARNOLD'S DAILY PRAYER. 

O, Lord, I have a busy world around me; eye, ear and 
thought will be needed for all my work to be done in that 
busy world. Nov>r, ere I enter on it, I would commit eye and 
ear and thought to Thee. Do Thou bless them, and keep 
their work Thine, that as ,through Thy natural laws my 
heart beats and my blood flows without any thought of 
mine, so my spiritual life may hold in its course at those 
times when my mind cannot consciously turn to Thee to 
conmiit each particular thought to Thy service. Hear my 
prayer, for my Redeemer's sake. Amen. 



27 



FRIENDS. 

**Our iriend is an unconscious part 
Of every true beat of our heart; 
A strength, a growth, whence we derive 
God's health, that keeps the world alive. 
Can friend lose friend? Believe it not. 
The tissue v/hereof life is wrought, 
Weaving the separate into one, 
Nor end hath, nor beginning; spun 
From subtle threads of destiny, 
Finer than thought of man can see. 
God takes not back His gifts divine; 
While thy soul lives, thy friend is thine." 

— Owen Meredith (?) 



TAKE HEED. 



''Oh, there has many a tear been shed, 
And many a heart been broken. 

For want of a frendly hand stretched out. 
Or a word in kindness spoken. 

Then deem it not an idle thing 

A pleasant word to speak 
The face you v/ear, the thoughts you bring, 

A heart may heal or break. 



COMFORT ONE ANOTHER. 

"Comfort one another; 

For the way is growing dreary. 

The feet are often weary. 
And the heart is very sad. 

There is heavy burden-bearing 

When it seems that none are caring 
And we half forget that ever we were glad. 



28 



Corafort one another; • 

With the hand-clasp close and tender, 

With the sweetness love can render, 
And the looks of friendly eyes. 

Do not wait, with grace unspoken 

While life's daily bread is broken 
Gentle speech is oft like manna from the skies. 

Comfort one another; 

By the h.ope^: of Him who sought us 

In our peril — Him who bought us, 
Paying with His precious blood; 

By the faith that will not alter. 

Trusting strength that cannot falter. 
Leaning on the One divinely good." 

— Mrs. N. E. Sangster. 



A MILE WITH ME. 

O who AN ill walk a mile with me 

Along life's merry way? 
A comrade blithe and full of glee, 
Who dares to laugh out loud and free, 
And let his frolic fancy play, 
Like a happy child, through the flowers gay 
That fill the field and fringe the way 

Where he walks a mile with me. 

And who will walk a mile with me 

Along life's weary way? 
A friend whose heart has eyes to see 
The stars shine out o'er the darkening lea. 
And the quiet rest at the end o' the day — 
A friend who knows and dares to say 
The brave, sweet words that cheer the way 

Where he walks a mile with me. 

With such a comrade, such a friend, 
I fain would walk till journeys end. 
Through summer sunshine, winter rain. 
And then?— Farewell, we shall meet again! 

— Henry van Dyke. 

29 



COUNSEL. 

If thou dost bid tby friend farewell, 

But for one night though that farewell may be, 
Press thou his palm with thine. How canst thou tell 
How far from thee. 

Fate or caprice may lead his feet, 

Ere that tomorrow comes? Men have been known 
To lightl} turn the corner of a street, 
And days have grown 

To months,, and months to lagging years, 
Before they looked in loving eyes again. 
Parting at best is underlaid with tears — 
With tears and pain. 

Therefore, lest sudden death should come betwee'^ 

Or time or distance, clasp with pressure true 
The hand of him who goeth forth; unseen, 
Fate goeth too! 

Yea, find thou always time to say 

Some earnest word between the idle talk; 
Lesi with thee henceforth, ever, night and day, 
Regret should walk. 

M. E. M. 



V^HAT WILL IT BRING THEE? 

What will it bring thee? That low prayer I plead, 
Sometimes v/hen thou and I are far apart, 

And with no knowledge of thy special need, 
I only say "God bless thee!" in my heart. 

What will it bring thee? Hope, in some dark hour 
When thy o'erhurdened heart is like to fail? 

Strength, when thine arm has well nigh lost its power? 
Might for the conflict? Courage to prevail? 

Rest, when thy heart is wearied with the strife? 

Peace, when some troubled thought has vexed thy soul? 
An inward calm amid some storm of life? 

Sweet patience while misfortune takes control? 

30 



Some crowning of the work thy hand has done? 

Success to make thy faithful task complete? 
Meekness to wear some honor thou hast won? 

Or noble fortitude to bear defeat? 

Some happy dreams to cheat thy heart of care? 

Some cheerful thought thy languor to beguile? 
Some passing joy to make thy day more fair, 

And win unto thy lips a brighter smile? 

Some gift to thrill thee with a glad surprise? 

Or some long sought or well-desired boon? 
Or safety where the deadly arrow flies, 

And fell destruction wasteth at the noon? 

I cannot tell; yet, be it joy or woe, 
Of which thy feet stand waiting on the brink, 

Thy need may be far greater than I know; 
God's blessing may be sweeter than I think. 

So in the halls where smiling faces meet; 

Or in the stillness where I sit apart; 
By lonely ways or in the crowded street, 

i breathe a low "God bless thee" from my heart. 

— Bert Ingliss. 



SLUMBER SONG. 

"Sleeply sweetly 
in this quiet room, 
O thou 
whoe'er thou art, 
And let 
no mournful 

yesterdays 
Disturb thy peaceful heart, 
Nor let tomorrow 

scare thy rest, 
With dreams of coming ill; 
Thy Maker is thy changeless 

friend, 
His love surrounds 

thee still. 
Forget thyself 
and all the world. 
Put out each glaring light; 
*he stars are watching overhead, 
Sleep sweetly, then, 

Good-night." 
31 



HOMEWARD. 

Through shade and shine the journey lies 
Beneath the ever-changing skies, 
Our finite skill can ne'er divine 
If one day shall be dark or fine; 
God hides it from our anxious eyes. 

How well for him who daily tries 

By faith to pierce the cloud's disguise, 

And sees the Father's glad design, 

Through shade and shine! 

O Thou, Who art the Only Wise, 

In mazes dark my way advise; 

Let biiter days with sweet combine, 
To make my life more truly Thine; 

Thus led by Thee, my song shall rise. 
Through shade and shine. 



— The Quiver. 



' > ' ^ ' 



THIS DAY OF THINE. 

'•Tnko unto Thyself, O Father! 

This folded day of thine, 

This weary way of mine; 
Its ragged corners cut me yet, 
Oh, still the; jar and fret! 
Father, do not forget 

That I am tired 

With this day of thine. 

Breathe thy pure breath, watching Father, 

On this marred day of thine, 

This wandering day of mine; 
Be patient with its blur and biot. 
Wash it white of stain and spot. 
Reproachful eyes! remember not 

That I have grieved thee, 

On this day of thine." 

— Elizabeth Stuart Phelps. 

32 



LANGLEY LANE. 

"In all the laud, range up and down, 

Is there ever a place so pleasant and sweet, 
As Langley Lane in London town. 

Just out of the bustle of square and street? 
Little white cottages all in a row, 
Gardens where bachelors buttons grow, 

Swallows liests in roof and wall, 
And up above the still blue sky- 
Where the woolly white clouds go smiling by, — 

I seem to be able to see it all! 

For nov in summer, I take my chair, 

And sit outside in the sun and hear 
The distant murmur of street and square. 

And the swallow and sparrow chirping near; 
And Fanny who lives just over the way. 
Comes running many a time each day 

With her little hand's touch so warm and kind, 
And I smile and talk, with the sun on my cheek, 
And the little live hand seems to stir and speak, — 

For Fanny is dumb and I am blind. 

Fanny is sweet thirteen, and she 

Has fine black ringlets and dark eyes clear. 
And I am older by summers three, — 

Whv should we hold one another so dear? ; 

Because she cannot utter a word 
Nor hear the music of bee or bird, 

The water-cart's splash or the milkman's call? 
Because I have never seen the sky. 
Nor the little singers that hum and fiy, — 

Yet know she is gazing upon them all? 

For the sun is shining, the swallows fly. 

The bees and the blue flies murmur low, 
And I hear the v/ater-cart go by, 

With its cool splash, splash, down the dusty row; 
And th3 little one close at my side perceives 
Mine eyes upraised to the cottage eaves. 

Where birds are chirping in summer shine, 
And I hear though I cannot look, and she. 
Though she cannot hear, can the singers see, — 

And the little soft fingers flutter in mine! 

33 



Hath not the dear little hand a tongue, 

When it stirs on my palm for the love of me? 
Do I not know she is pretty and young? 

Hath not my sou] an eys to see? 
*Tis pleasure to make one's bosom stir 
To wonder how things appear to her 

That I only hear as they pass around; 
And as loni*' as we sit in the music and light,' 
She i? happy to keep God's sight, 

Ana I am happy to keep God's sound. 

Why, I know her face, though I am blind — 

I maae it of music long ago: 
Strange large eyes and dark hair twined 

Round the pensive light of a brow of snow; 
And when I sii by my little one. 
And hold her hand and sit in the sun. 

And hear the m usic that haunts the place, 
I know she is raising her eyes to me. 
And guessing how gentle my voice must be, 

And seeing the nuisic upon my face. 

Though if ever the Lord should grant a prayer 

(T know the fancy is only vain,) 
I should pray: just cnce, when the weather is fair. 

To see little Fanny and Langley Lane; 
Though Fanny, perh&ps, would pray to hear 
The voice of the friend she holds so dear. 

The song of the birds the hum of the street. — 
It is better to be as we have been, — 
Eack keeping up something, unheard, unseen. 

To make God's heaven more strange and sweet.*' 



Ah! life is pleasant in Langley Lane! 

There is always something sweet to hear! 
Chirping of birds cr patter of rain! 

And Fanny my little one always near! 
And though I am weakly and can't live long, 
And P'anny my darling is far from strong. 

And though v/e can never married be, — 
What then?- since v/e hold each other so dear 
For the sake of the pleasure one cannot hear. 

And the pleasure that only one can see." 

— Robert Buchanan. 



DISTANT THING. 

*'Ol white is tlie sail in the Par Away, 

And soiled the sail at the dock; 
And fair are the cliffs across the bay. 

And black is the near by rock. 
Thougn glitters the snow on the peaks afar. 

At our feet it is only white; 
And bright is the gleam of the distant star, 

Though a lamp was twice as bright! 

The rose that nods beyond our reach 

Is redder than rose of ours; 
Of thought that turns our tongue to speech 

Our fellows leave greater dowers. 
The v/aters that flow from the hidden springs 

Are sweeter than those by our side — 
So we strive through life for the Distant Things. 

And Dever are satisfied! 

So we strive through life for these Distant Things, 

But ever they hold their place, 
"^ill hoati life's drum and Death doth come, 

And we look in his mocking face. 
And ih ^ Dirtaii' Things crowd near and close. 

And, faith! they are dingy and gray! 
For the charm is lost when the line is crossed 

Twixt Here and Far Away. 

For the charm is lost when the line is crossed 

A ad we see things as they are; 
And know that as clean is the sail at the dock 

As the sail on the sea afar; 
As bright the rays of the near-by lamp." 

As the gleam of the distant star." 




Art tired? 
There is a rest remaining. Hast thou sinned? 
There is a sacrifice. Lift up thy head: 
The lovely v/orld, and the over-world, alike 
Ring with a song eterne, a happy rede, 

**Thy Father loves thee." — Jean Ingelow. 

35 



A SEA SHELL. 

**Thy mercy, Lord, is like the sea — 
So broad, so deep, so full, so free; 
And 'neath its overwhelming tide. 
Dost Thou my dark transgressions hide. 

Unlike the sea, Thy love is found, 
For, Lord Thy mercy hath no bound; 
The ocean's depth may fathomed be, 
But not Thy vondrous love to me. 

O, Love Divine, beyond my ken, 
O, Love that reaches sinful men; 
So broad, so deep, so full, so free. 
'Tis Love, indeed, that reaches me." 



TOO LATE. 



For one beloved, to whom I yet had given 

Scant proof of love, a purposed gift I bore. 
Ah me! bow my remorseful heart was riven. 

When my too hardy steps were at his door. 
And I beheld thereon the sable sign 
That mutely told my doom; no gift of mine 

Should reach him evermore. 

After a far-off friend of happier years 
All night with wakeful tenderness I longed. 

At morn the missive oft postponed, with tears 
Bedewed, with glowing memories thronged, 

Had fiown to greet him; yet was it outsped 

By tidings, lightning winged, that he was dead. 
Whoso love my silence wronged. 

Once near me dwelt a youth of radiant face, 

Who, like to him the Master looked upon 
And straightway loved, lacked but one crowning grace, 

Fain to Its Source would I his feet have drawn. 
But lingered long, until — resolved at last — 
Those errant feet beyond my bounds had passed. 

And into darkness gone. 

—Rev. S, M. Osmond, D. D. 

36 



GIVE. 

"Give as you would, if an angel 

Awaited your gift at the door; 
Give as you would, if to-morrow 

Found you where waiting was o'er; 
Give as you would to the Master, 

If you met His searching look; 
Give as you would of your substance, 

If His hand your offering took." 



OPPOSITION. 



As we float with the current there is beauty and 
rhythm in the dip of the oars — nothing more; but turned 
against the current, muscle and will, to overcome. Our 
best qualities are brought out when we overcome obstacles 
or e\ils in the way of right endeavor. 

— M. J. A. 



GOD'S COMMANDS. 

How gentle God's commands 

How kind His precepts are! 
Come, cast your burden on the Lord, 

And trust His constant care. 

Beneath His powerful sway 

His saints securely dwell; 
That hand which bears all nature up 

Will guide His children well. 

Why should this anxious load 

Press down your weary mind? 
Haste to your heavenly Father's throne, 

And sweet refreshment find. 

His goodness stands approved. 

Unchanged from day to day; 
111 drop my burden ac His feet, 

And bear a song away. 



37 



—P. D. 



COST. 

"They tell me I must bruise 

The rose's leaf, 
Ere I can keep and use 

Its fiagrance brief. 

They tell me I must break 

The skylark's heart 
Ere her cage song will make 

The silence start. 

They tell me love must bleed, 

And friendship weep, 
Ere in my deepest need 

I touch that deep. 

Must it be always so 

With precious things? 
Must they be bruised, and go 

Witn beaten wings? 

Ah, yes! By crushing days. 
By caging nights, by scar 

Of thorn and stony ways, 
These blessings are!" 

— Anon. 



"Placo a spray in thy belt, or a rose on thy stand, 
When thou settest thyself to a commonplace seam; 

Its beauty will brighten the work in thy hand. 
Its fragrance will sweeten each dream. 

When the task thou performest is irksome and long 
Or thy brain is perplexed by doubt or by tear. 

Fling open the wirdow and let in the song 
God hath taught to the birds for thy cheer." 



Lord we thank Thee for Thy care. 
Abundant food and balmy air; 
The friends we love, the scenes we prize. 
And all the kindly human ties. 

— M. J. A. 

88 



THE MASTER'S TOUCH. 

"Whalever the fever, His touch can heal it; 

Whatever the tempest, His voice can still. 
There is only joy as we seek His pleasure; 

There is only a rest as we choose His will. 
And some day, after life's fitful fever, 

I think we shall say, in the home on high. 
If the hands that He touched but did His bidding 

How little it matters what else went by! 
Ah, Lord! Thou knowest us altogether. 

Each heart's sore sickness, whatever it be. 
Touch Thou our hands! Let the fever leave us, 

And so shall me minister unto Thee." 



"Wouldst thou make life's ups and downs 

Easier seem and brighter? 
Share thy fellows heavy load 

Thine shall be the lighter. 
Smooth the pillows of the sick. 

Sweet shall be thy slumber; 
Will to bless, shall bring to thee 

Blessings without number." 



*'We search the world for truth; we cull 
The good, the pure, the beautiful 
From graven stone and written scroll. 
From all old flower-fields of the soul; 
And, weary seekers of the best, 
We come back laden from our quest, 
To find that all the sages said 
Ls in the Book our Mothers read." 



"This is the Blessed Life — not anxious to see far in 
front; not careful about the next step; not eager to choose 
the path; not weighted with the heavy responsibilities of 
the future; but quietly following behind the Shepherd, one 
step at a time." — John X:3,4. 

— Meyer. 

39 



"ALTOGETHER LOVELY." 

(Solomon's Song 5:16.) 

**He is allogether loveJy, my Beloved and my Friend/' 
Strange that ever He should love me, strange that He 

should condescend 
To redeem and bleso a sinner, and to dwell with him on 

earth — 
He, the Lord of light and glory, spotless, pure, of heavenly 

birtho 
"He is altogether lovely," perfect, faultless, free from guile; 
Yet withal so kind and tender, holy, harmless undefined; 
Patient when I sorely grieve Him, loving when I go astray. 
Bearing with me, teaching, training, guiding me from day 

to day. 

"He is altogether lovely," I would gaze and gaze at Him, 
Losing sight of earth's attractions, losing sight of self and 

sin: 
Looking only unto Jesus, growing more like Him to be 
Till I bear His glorious image through a glad eternity. 

"He is altogether lovely," He is coming, we shall see 
Him in a}l His matchless splendor, and with Him and like 

Him be: 
Blessed hope our hearts to gladden, we'll behold our 

Saviour's face. 
And be satisfied, eniaptured, with His beauty and His grace. 



— Annie E. Richards, 



fe) 
& 



"And how have been the hours 

That I with friends have spent? 
Was my heart for friendship ready? 

Spoke I only what I meant? 
Was my fervor always gentle; 

My spirit single, true? 
Said I nothing; did I nothing 

Which I now would fain undo?" 



— Warner, 

40 



"There's many a hand that is not quick to do 

The duties that it would, 
But Jabors lamely, though the heart be true — 

Its deeds misunderstood; 
O, sons of men, I pray you take good heed: 

Speak, do, live as you should; 
And know that then your word, your every deed, 

Your life, God understood." 



''Beloved I wish above all things, that thou mayst pros- 
per and be in health even as thy soul prospereth/' 
Also 1 Thess. 1:2 and 3:13. 




41 



INDEX. 



1. Praise 5 

2. He Leadeth Me 6 

8. Amen 7 

4. The Loom of Life 8 

5. Weaving the Web 9 

6. Our Years 10 

7. Another Day ..,.,. 11 

8. Just for To-day 11 

9. If We Had But a Day 12 

10. Hour By Hour 13 

11. To Keep a True Lent 14 

12. Easter Thanks 15 

13. Every Day Thanks 15 

14. Christmas 16 

15. A Christmas Wish 16 

16. Christmastide 17 

17. Christmas Letter 17 

18. A New Year Greeting 19 

19. Anno Domini 19 

20. Peace 20 

21. The Foot-Path to Peace 20 

22. The Wind 21 

23. Somewhere 21 

24. She and 1 23 

25. The Future 24 

26. We Wonder Why 24 

27. Resignation 25 

28. Longing 26 

29. To Myself 26 



NUV ^ 1903 

30. Shutting the Door 27 

31. Dr. Arnold's Daily Prayer 27 

32. Friends 28 

33. Take Heed 28 

34. Comfort One Another 28 

35. A Mile With Me 29 

36. Counsel 30 

37. What Will It Bring Thee ? 30 

38. Slumber Song 31 

39. Homeward 32 

40. This Day of Thine 32 

41. Langley Lane 33 

42. Distant Things 35 

43. A Sea Shell 3G 

44. Too Late 36 

45. Give 37 

46. Opposition 37 

47. God's Commands 37 

48. Cost 38 

49. The Master's Touch 39 

50. Altogether Lovely 40 



^ 




e 014 090 075 8 



